Alliances
by Kalico37
Summary: Blake Belladonna is one of three young women brought together by one of the most notorious figures in Vytal. Their ultimate goal: to eliminate a high-value target before everything goes sideways. But when she finds that her new allies have history with each other, and most of it unpleasant, where are they supposed to start? Rated T because that's my thing.
1. Transfer Request

**DISCLAIMER: ****I do not own RWBY or any original characters/locations/etc. from the series. But I tentatively lay claim to this story, which, down the line, I expect will be criticized for similarities to other franchises. I assure you, this plot is original, in that I thought up the barebones one day and added these characters to it.**

**Here is something new, something different from me. I hope you like it!**

* * *

Two black-clad male guards, tough-looking and silent, stood stationed at one of the many section gates when they noticed someone approaching in the almost non-existent light, flanked by two female guards.

Immediately, they stepped forward to block the oncoming party's path. "Halt!" One of the guards held up their hands, and motioned the visitor over. "Move over into the light of the checkpoint!"

The guest stepped into the appropriate area, and the guard immediately regretted ordering her around. "Apologies, ma'am, I didn't quite recognize you." He looked over to one of the accompanying guards. "This the transfer request?"

"Affirmative," one of the female guards replied. The enquirer raised his scroll to log the activity, and the female interrupted him. "That won't be necessary."

The male guard paused. "Protocol dictates-"

"Protocol is making an exception in this case," the female guard interrupted again. "This is a…_special_ request."

The guest was sure that if the checkpoint was better-lit, she would see the guard's eyebrow raising. "Shall we proceed? Time is of some importance here," she prodded, trying to move things along.

The male guard looked at her for a moment. "Very well." He closed the scroll and pulled a lever on the wall. The heavy gate slid open, and the male guard, the female guard, and their silent counterparts moved into their positions, so that the guest was now ensconced within the middle of the group. As soon as they were clear, the gate quickly slammed back into place, and the party of five wasted no time in moving forward.

The sound of five, heavily-booted pairs of footsteps proceeding down the dully-lit corridor reverberated, bouncing off the walls in uniform fashion. The time was incredibly late, no later than one in the morning, and no sooner than midnight, and as such, the halls of the Vale Corrections Facility were deathly quiet, apart from the clomping of boots across the poured concrete floor, as they moved quickly to their destination. The group turned at a junction, and proceeded to the far right corner, stopping directly in front of the door on the very end.

The prison was rather new. A project funded by a sole benefactor, it housed the most dangerous criminals known to Vale. State-of-the-art technology, and experienced security personnel at the top of their game kept the incarcerated constantly in check.

The guards moved from covering the guest, to cover positions around the door, while one of them pulled out a scroll and, after a short series of taps, the locks in the door clanked free. The guard with the scroll poised himself to yank the door open, looking at the guest. "This door opens, and you go in. You get seven minutes maximum, and then we're pulling both of you out of there, whether you're done chatting or not."

"I assume then, you won't be accompanying me inside?" The guest cocked her head.

"Affirmative," the guard confirmed. "Under normal circumstances, we would, but these are hardly normal circumstances. I assume you understand, ma'am."

The exchange over, the guard pulled the door open. As soon as it was halfway-ajar, the other three guards quickly ushered her in. "Seven minutes."

As soon as the door closed behind her, she saw a silhouette literally blur into her path as it pinned her to the cell wall. She was unfazed, and quickly identified her attacker. "Blake Belladonna," she ground out. The pressure between her back and the wall weakened ever-so-slightly. "The supposed ex-leader of the radical White Fang. It's nice to finally meet you."

The pressure lessened completely, as Blake backed off. The prisoner used her superior night-vision to properly identify who she had attacked, and crossed her arms, as if that was her way of showing surprise. "And you…" Her feline ears twitched. "You're Weiss Schnee."

Weiss nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Blake. Although given the circumstances, I doubt you'd be feeling similarly."

Blake shook her head. "I was told that I was being transferred somewhere. Do you secretly run the prison? You here to escort me away or something? What is this? Some sort of sick joke? A ruse?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, then, why are you here?" Blake started pacing. "The director of the largest energy propellant empire in Vytal, visiting a hidden prisoner in maximum security? I'm guessing that this isn't a common occurrence."

Weiss raised her eyebrow. "Hm. You were once a very astute and perceptive individual. I thought you might have figured it out by now, Blake. You are being released into _my _custody. You are being transferred to my care."

Blake stopped pacing. "What? But… what do you want from me?"

Weiss walked up to her. "I have… something in mind, and you are one of the people that can assist me."

"'One of the people?'" Blake frowned in skepticism, as she realized something about her visitor. "Wait. Where are the guards? It's not SOP to leave a guest alone with a prisoner in a cell."

"These are special circumstances," Weiss waved her off. "Officially, this visit never happened. Officially, this transfer of custody never happened. Officially, once we leave this place, Blake Belladonna will be logged as deceased. Assaulted and killed by rivals in the prison, for the record. We both know that's B.S, of course. But the public won't know any of it, anyway. As a matter of fact, I can assure you that practically no one out there even knows who _you _are. Your story never made the headlines, for one thing. Great lengths were went to in order to keep your existence hidden after you were taken in."

Blake was shocked by this. But she was also suspicious, and that was the primary tone she went for. "No. No, I'm not going anywhere."

"Tell me, Blake," Weiss stared at her. "How long have you been in here?"

Blake crossed her arms again. "I… don't know. I lost count a long time ago, it seems."

"Blake." Weiss reached out and firmly grasped her shoulder. "I did say 'a long time ago,' and I wasn't joking. For you, it's been six years. I understand your reticence, but I'm afraid that the matter is not negotiable. Your release into my custody is something I have been striving towards for a long time. The arrangement has been fully cleared by the warden, and you will be coming with me, whether you resist or not."

Blake reluctantly decided to play along. "So, say I go with you. I want some idea of what happens from there."

Weiss released the prisoner's shoulder. "As I said, I have something in mind for you, a special assignment, if you will, and you are someone that can help me."

"What's the assignment?"

"Too soon for that. More will be revealed down the line, as it becomes necessary," Weiss dismissed her. "But I will say that, should success be achieved, then a more, _permanent,_ decision regarding your future freedom can be made. As opposed to being officially deceased, for instance, there may not be a grid for you to concern yourself with at all."

Silence made its familiar return to the cell, as Blake considered her options. "Well," she sighed. "I suppose I don't have a choice…"

"You don't," Weiss reminded her.

"Okay," Blake nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Weiss nodded as well, and banged twice on the door. It opened, and the group immediately started for the checkpoint.

Blake felt a coursing of emotions within her, emotions that she had long thought to be dead. Anger, at those who had seen her locked away in the first place; fear, of what to expect from a world she had been missing from for six years; sadness, that she had been gone from the world for six years; and relief. Relief that the other emotions had resurfaced; it meant that she was actually alive.

As soon as they exited the prison, and found themselves outside, Blake immediately started shivering. Weiss draped a third of her large cloak around her. "You're no good to me if you freeze to death."

"I don't get much fresh air in a concrete cell," Blake defended. The pair moved as one towards a large airship which was docked and waiting, ready to launch. The loud thrum of the engines forced Blake to yell. "I'm guessing this is yours?"

"Pride and joy. A pet project over the last half-decade." Weiss slapped her on the back. "Do you want to get inside, out of the cold, or would you rather stay out here questioning your travel options?"

A panel on the side slid open, and Weiss motioned for Blake to climb aboard. As soon as they were both inside, Weiss opened a scroll and tapped on it, sealing the panel. Weiss turned around and noticed Blake watching her. "This airship is large, yes, but it is fitted with the best stealth system designs that no one knows were ever created, and a handpicked crew of those I deemed necessary. It has beyond state-of-the-art facilities and systems, and more than enough space for you to join in.

"Welcome, to my aerial abode."

* * *

At the same time the huge airship had risen into the air, cloaked, and sped away, the warden of the Vale Correction Facility pulled up the transcripts and files on Blake Belladonna on his scroll.

DESIGNATION: B02-0136-F03  
NAME : BELLADONNA, BLAKE  
SEX: FEMALE  
AGE: 24 YEARS 5 MONTHS

ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS GRANTED. CONFIRM DETAILS?

The warden tapped yes on the scroll, bringing up the bottom half of the file. The warden scrolled through to the area he wanted, letting his eyes linger over some of the more interesting points.

CURRENT LENGTH OF INCARCERATION: 6 YEARS  
IMPRISONED ON TIES TO WHITE FANG AND ACTS COMMITTED IN THEIR NAME.  
SENTENCED TO: [REDACTED]

UPDATE: BELLADONNA HAS BEEN CONFIRMED AS [REDACTED].

The warden scrolled back up to the vital details, and tapped an option along the side.

ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS GRANTED. CONFIRM VITAL STATUS?

The warden tapped yes once more, and after some loading, the display on the scroll reverted back to the list of inmate files. He pulled up Blake's file once more, and laid the tablet on the desk. Where Blake's mugshot had been, there was now a large red cross through it, and the word "DECEASED" emblazoned in dull orange across the page.

Officially, the transfer never happened. Blake Belladonna was dead. Murdered in prison, at the hands of "rivals." The proper steps had been taken, procedures followed to the letter, and there were no suspicious loose ends hanging off the arrangement. It had been a special request, carried out in a normal, inconspicuous fashion. If it were anyone else requesting, the warden would have had them thrown into a cell themselves. But this was Weiss Schnee, the woman who had practically seen the place built, with her numerous contributions to technology across the continent, as well as her role as the sole benefactor of the prison's initial funding. If she had asked the warden to jump, he would have asked, "How high?"

And the fact that Weiss Schnee wanted the former leader of the White Fang to herself worried him slightly.

The warden sat back in his chair and stared at the page. He would begin purging the prison's systems of Belladonna's records, and the footage of Schnee's visit, shortly. But for now, he was content to let the situation sink in. "I hope you know what you're doing, Miss Schnee."

* * *

**There is the first chapter to my new project, Alliances. Short, but it is a first dig. I assure you that they will get much longer as the story goes on.**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	2. First Assignment

**Another short one, I know, but bear with me. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer.**

* * *

Blake stared into the mirror, letting her gaze lose focus as she rubbed running water over her hands. She remembered, quite vividly, the feeling of metal gauntlets that had clamped her hands together almost every day for the past six years. And even though the physical shackles had since been removed, she couldn't help but feel as if there was still something weighing her down. For her, it was like there was a substantial gap in the timeline of her life, between when she was 18 and 24 years old. Her transfer from prison custody to Weiss Schnee's custody felt odd to her.

_At least in prison, I knew what was going on… most of the time, anyway, _she thought. _But this? Something feels off about the whole thing. Schnee already told me that she wasn't going to give me the whole picture, but that doesn't reassure me at all. For one thing, she called me the "supposed" ex-leader. What did she mean by that?_

She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on the black top-and-trouser combination that Weiss had given her. After spending six years in prison, Blake had been more than happy to slip into anything that wasn't a grey jumpsuit. Her quarters were also rather luxurious, compared to her cell back in Vale Correctional. A bed with pillows was a welcome start, not to mention the adjoining bathroom.

Making sure to turn out the lights on the way out, she left her quarters and proceeded up the adjacent stairwell. She knew where Weiss' office-slash-bedroom was, on the deck above her quarters, where she would be no doubt poring over important documents.

Which is why she was surprised when she entered and found an empty office.

"Hey, anyone in here?" she called out, even though she knew she was very much alone. She strolled over to a desk against the side of the office, and sank down into a spinning chair. With not much else to do, she pushed off her foot and spun around a few times.

"You really shouldn't be in here by yourself."

Blake put her foot back out and ground herself to a halt. Weiss was marching through the doorway, a scroll in either hand. She looked very preoccupied, her brow furrowed and her gaze intense.

Weiss glanced between the scrolls, and glanced at Blake. "I'm sure you have many questions for me, despite my previous warnings that many you may want to ask will likely go unanswered."

"I do."

"Well, I am rather busy, but I can spare a moment or two." She set the scrolls down, and sat down on another chair across from Blake. "Now, what do you think I can tell you?"

Blake took a breath. "Back at the prison, you said you had a special assignment for me."

"I did." A beat. "What's the question?"

Blake shrugged. "Well, what can you tell me?"

Weiss crossed her arms, contemplating what she could and could not tell her. "I have to remain vague on this matter for now. But," she said, gesturing to the scrolls. "What I'm doing right now is something relevant to you."

"What are you doing?"

Weiss contemplated again. "The most I can say is that I'm working on manipulating a… manifest of sorts. It will become more relevant to you quite soon."

Blake wasn't satisfied. "How can you expect me to follow your lead if you don't tell me what I need to know?!"

In a voice filled with deadly calm, Weiss said, "Everything you know right now, as insignificant as it seems, is everything you _need_ to know right now. It's barely been 24 hours since I liberated you, and we're going to be in for the long haul. You _need _to understand this.

"Let me ask _you _something." Weiss stood, and began to circle Blake. "Who are you loyal to?"

"At the moment, myself," Blake answered flatly. "Why-"

"If I need you to perform a, let's say a special task for me, could you fully commit yourself to the cause?"

"I… don't know. It would depend on the task."

"If such a scenario should arise where you are faced with a life-or-death decision, could you make the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good?"

"No!" Blake scowled. "At this point, with all that I know, I would sooner push _you_ into a fire than jump into it for you."

Weiss didn't look offended by the threat. If anything, she was smiling slightly. "I understand. I sympathize, even. Spending an extended stay in incarceration can bring out the "lone wolf" in someone. This mentality will serve as fuel early on, but remember; we are in for the long haul, and sooner rather than later, you will need to cast this attitude aside and return to the mindset of the strong leader and brilliant tactician you were as the leader of the White Fang. _That _is what I need from you eventually."

Upon noticing Blake's raised eyebrow, she continued, "I know all about your time with the White Fang. Very impressive. Very inspiring. The Liberation of Menagerie, the Raising of The White Banner, all very extraordinary."

Blake looked shocked. "I wasn't behind those. I wasn't even really the leader."

"Ah, it seems you're trying to perpetuate the common belief that you were never directly involved in anything uncouth. I already did call you the 'supposed' ex-leader. That's because you were the leader, but you went to a lot of trouble to keep yourself a secret.

"You _were_ behind those events. And more. Even after the day you went inside, everyone chasing the White Fang thought that Grayson was the one leader. But you were the one orchestrating everything, I know. Grayson was competent, but he was a puppet on the strings of the strings of the true leader. You. Then, suddenly, you're in prison, Grayson is dead, and the peaceful efforts of the White Fang get pushed back by _years_. It is incredibly fortunate for us that there are only a few people currently alive who know the story, and that they are all firmly in my camp. At least that means you won't get recognized on the street."

"What do you want me to do?" Blake abruptly asked, feeling uneasy at the recounting of a difficult past.

"As necessary as they will be," Weiss began. "These first couple of assignments won't serve as much of a vindication for your recruitment, I'm afraid."

Blake waved her off. "Just tell me what you need."

"Your task is to locate a target." Weiss pulled a folder of her desk, and handed it to Blake. "The person described in this dossier is your target. I have another dossier, which I will handle personally."

"Now, when you say target…"

"Ah. My apologies. 'Target' meaning 'recruit,'" Weiss said. "You will travel into the heart of the city, where she can be located at any time. Find her, and convince her to join us. I will do the same with my own prospect."

"Okay. And how am I possibly supposed to convince anyone to join the 'cause' when I don't even know what it is?" Blake deadpanned.

Weiss stood. "Just get it done."

"Any… special methods?" Blake asked.

Weiss picked up her scrolls again. "Let me reiterate: _convince _her, not kidnap her," she paused. "You have a cover and a new public identity, and as I said, it would be almost impossible for anyone to recognize you on the street, but if anyone should interfere… keep it quiet." She left the room, back to focusing on her scrolls.

As Weiss left, Blake opened the dossier. "Well, it looks like I'm coming for you," she said, running her hand over a picture of a young, blonde woman. "Yang Xiao Long."

* * *

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	3. Headhunters

**New chapter! Pretty proud of this one, if I must say so myself!**

* * *

The inside of Blake's cheek was being chewed raw. Such was the state of her anxiety as she entered the gym, clad in exercise clothing. Public situations had a tendency to make her skittish.

According the dossier she had been issued, Yang Xiao Long worked multiple jobs at the gym, such as dance instructor, tennis instructor, and an occasional personal trainer. Blake had questioned, mentally, how such expertise could possibly help them, but she'd had to remind herself that Yang's dossier mentioned "extensive combat experience," "peak physical condition," "exceptional combat skills," and a "unique, 'enhancement' ability."

She looked around the entrance area for somewhere to begin, and noticed a semicircular reception desk against the back wall. _Okay, remember, _Blake reminded herself. _Keep it… quiet._

"Hi! Welcome to the Vale City Gym, where we get you fit and healthy under the best teachers around! Can I help you?"

Blake strained a smile at the overly-friendly desk-rider. "Hello, I'm new to the city, and I was wondering… is this the gym where Yang Xiao Long teaches? I've heard _so much _about her."

* * *

The only persistent noise in Weiss' ear was the low thrum of her airship's engines, as she stared, at the closed dossier on her lap. It hadn't been opened once, as Weiss already knew everything there was to know about her target. She knew every inch of their appearance. She knew several years of their past. She knew their greatest desires, their deepest fears.

Her scroll beeped, snapping her out of her thought bubble. She cleared her throat, and unlocked it. "Speak," she said.

"_Ma'am,"_ her pilot's voice crackled over the connection. _"We're approaching the last known coordinates of the target."_

Weiss contemplated. She wanted to get the job done quickly, but it wouldn't do to scare away her target by dropping in from an airship. "Take us in," she replied. "But carefully. Focus energy on the stealth systems, and prepare to drop me off a decent distance away from the last knowns."

"_Ma'am? Are you sure? It wouldn't be safe to drop you off that close to the bluff."_

"I trust your abilities will be all the safety I need," Weiss said. "I picked you as my pilot for a reason, Ulysses. If we get too close to the coordinates, the target will likely notice and bolt, no matter how good our stealth systems are. We're not scaring off the target," Weiss stated flatly. "So just do it."

"_Copy that ma'am."_

The connection closed, and Weiss stood up. She picked up her belt, and tightened it around her waist. The belt, apart from serving as a holster for her rapier, Myrtenaster, also served as a utility, carrying vials of powdered Dust in shielded cases. This way, she could fuel her special abilities without fear of getting blown up by a stray shot nicking a vial of volatile Dust.

She tossed the dossier on her desk as she strode out of her office. The cover slipped open, revealing a sketch of someone, in lieu of an actual picture.

* * *

Blake opened the door to the aerobics studio where Yang was leading the session. From the looks of things, the session appeared to be halfway through. Many of the participants appeared to be women, who were following Yang's lead with enthusiasm and vigor.

Blake could only focus on how her tardiness made her stand out. "Great way to be inconspicuous," she muttered under her breath.

"Hey there!"

Blake whipped her head to the greeting, and saw her target waving at her. "Uh, hello."

Yang smiled, and beckoned for Blake to join the group. With an artificial smile, Blake inwardly sighed and started towards a space in the group. It seemed to be a waste of time, but she didn't want to draw attention to herself by attempting to drag her target away in the middle of her class.

_So, it looks like I'm playing along then, _Blake resolved. _Terrific._

* * *

Weiss felt the rush of the wind against her body and face, as she fell rapidly towards the crimson ground. She slashed at the air with Myrtenaster, and spawned a pale-blue glyph. She landed on the glyph, and propelled herself off of it. She swiftly repeated this process as the ground came closer and closer, hopping to-and-fro between the glyphs until she gracefully landed on the forest floor.

She had been dropped off in the vast expanse of Forever Fall, in the far north of Vale, about three quarters of a mile away from the last-known coordinates of her target. In front of her, and on either side of her, was forestry. Behind her was the northernmost edge of Vale, overlooking the sea.

In older times, the forest had been famous for its native florae, the trees with the red leaves, and the red grass that was surprisingly soft underfoot. The trees had actually been cleared a number of times, but the forest had somehow always managed to spring back up, no matter how many trees were uprooted by despicable men with greedy intentions. Fortunately, the forest had eventually been declared a protected area, and no loggers had roamed the area for several decades.

Her airship had approached the forest by travelling north out of Vale airspace, and then making a 180-degree turn back towards the forest, so it appeared that they were approaching from overseas. Not that anyone would have seen them – cloaking technology made sure of that.

Weiss stood up from her crouch, and started through the forest which she had memorized her way through a long time ago.

* * *

"All right, everybody, that's it for the day!" Yang declared.

The women around Blake, all smiles and panting heavily, finished the routine and began to disperse. Blake, noticing the swathe of women around Yang, thanking her and otherwise chatting, decided that it would be best for her to wait for everybody else to leave. She knew that Weiss would likely expect her to cause problems and make drama out of the assignment, given the fact she was fresh out of incarceration. "Keep it clean," Weiss had said to her. But Blake knew how to complete jobs and change the situation without anyone else ever noticing. One time, she planned and executed a major operation, completely on her own, and without anyone knowing about it. Dust. That was the heart of the job, much like usual. But there was greater significance to it.

When she was still a rookie, she had overheard a few lieutenants talking about a hidden plant down in the heart of Vale's industrial district. Officially, it was a factory, tasked with mass-producing weapons and armor. One of many in Vale, but she had noticed several differences between it and a usual factory. Almost imperceptible differences, Blake had learned after the fact, but it hadn't mattered. After spending a day on reconnaissance, Blake set to work. She waited until the dark of night, when the normally-heavy security was rather light. Exploiting a structural weakness, she infiltrated the building without alerting security or triggering any hidden countermeasures. After sneaking her way into the building's head office, she uncovered several shipping orders. There were discrepancies. The company that owned the plant was ordering extra shipments of Dust, much more than they needed to power weapons and armor. The extra shipments were written away as being for "equipment maintenance," but Blake could see that the equipment being used was in perfect condition, and shouldn't have needed Dust maintenance for several years.

The company was busted for selling Dust to crime lords and black markets across the continent, and siphoning that money into the personal accounts of their biggest investors. Blake had only been young at the time, but she still knew how serious it was to mess around with Dust like that. The company subsequently collapsed, the scheme's leading men imprisoned, and the White Fang seized the opportunity to take the leftovers from the plant's production – weapons, armor, and Dust – which were of an admittedly good quality.

Blake was only 12 at the time, but she found herself rising up the ranks after that "impressive" performance. Her actions had helped to further strengthen the cause of the organisation, she had been told. But it wasn't until she led them for herself that she saw the bigger picture, and only then when it was too late.

That first job was one of the things she was proud of, if only because she was able to prove to herself that she could do something no one else could. To her, this was a largely scaled-down version of that.

She went over to the corner where she had put down her gym bag, and drew out her towel. She wrapped it around her neck and sat down on the floor, stretching and warming down. As she rubbed her legs, she kept an eye on the rest of the room, waiting for everybody else to leave.

Eventually the women cleared out, and Blake was left alone in the studio with her target. She had deliberately prolonged her stretches.

Yang walked up to her. "New, huh?"

"Yeah," Blake responded, and held out her arm. "Help me up?"

Yang grunted as she pulled Blake up. "There we go." She kept hold of Blake's hand, and gave it a shake. "Yang Xiao Long. Jill-of-all-trades around here. Dance, aerobics, boxing, self-defense, personal training, et cetera. _If _you didn't know that already, of course. But I don't know _you_. So, thought I might come over and talk with you."

"Hm." Blake cocked her head. "As a matter of fact, I was rather hoping to talk to _you_ instead."

Yang looked perplexed. "I'm sorry?"

Blake led her towards the door, and gestured for her to go through first.

"Uh…" Yang looked at her with curiosity before she went through the door. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't." Blake pulled the door shut behind her. "You might want to take the rest of the day off."

* * *

Weiss hid herself behind some brush, and observed the area. She could quite clearly see her destination, a small cabin. It was only a little bigger than a greenhouse, and hidden rather spectacularly in the surrounding foliage. It appeared to have been designed so that it would be easily missed, or so that anyone who might stumble across it would immediately dismiss it as a shack abandoned many decades prior. But Weiss was more mindful than that. She knew her target well, and she knew why her target had erected the building so. Minding her shaky breathing, she began her slow approach to the cabin, hopeful, yet at the same time nervous, at the prospect of what she might find within.

* * *

"… And that's the situation," Blake finished. She felt like she could see the wheels turning behind Yang's eyes.

"Wait, what?" Yang said blankly.

Blake shook her head, and explained again, slower. After Yang had told Friendly-Desk-Rider that she was taking off for the rest of the day, she had followed Blake down the street, and into a deserted alleyway, where, behind a dumpster, Blake had wasted no time in telling her what she knew, and the same things that Weiss had told her, as scarce as those details were.

Obviously, it had appeared as if her first explanation had gone over Yang's head. She finished her second explanation, and Yang nodded.

"Okay, I think I get it." She crossed her arms. Blake sighed in annoyance. Yang didn't seem to notice. "But I don't really know what Miss Empire Schnee wants with me. I can fight, sure, but in a city of fighters, that's not too big a deal."

"To be honest, I don't know either," Blake said.

"Can you tell me specifically what we might be doing?"

Blake scowled. "Again, I don't know."

Yang smiled wryly. "I find your position interesting in this picture. You seem like a blind woman, stumbling around in the darkness and waiting for Weiss Schnee's voice to call out for you."

Blake glared at her, clenching and unclenching her fists. "Running errands for Weiss Schnee isn't my choice. I have a debt to repay her."

Yang's face hardened, and her eyes focused on Blake like beams. "Can I tell you something, Blake Belladonna?"

Blake took a step back, her eyes searching Yang's face. "How do you know who I am?"

Yang ignored her. "I'm concerned about Weiss' motives. I don't know her personally, but I know her reputation to the point where I'm expecting that she's planning something big. I don't know if I want to get involved in any sort of shady business.

"But, please, tell me this. How many people are going to be involved?"

Blake narrowed her eyes, not entirely sure of how to approach matter after having her identity blown. "Four. Myself. Weiss. If you agree, then you. And someone else, that Weiss went out to seek personally."

"Well, I doubt that we'd be running some sort of Dust delivery service to Signal Academy on Patch Island. I don't know if I'm willing to potentially risk my life running around with a Dust mogul, the ex-leader of the White Fang, and some random unknown. If I accept, of course."

Blake smirked humorlessly. "Bullshit. Danger appeals to you. You would thrive in a life-or-death situation. You're the type that looks death in the eye and flips the finger. I've been watching you quite closely. Your movements are reflexive, and fast-twitch, as if you anticipate action at every turn. Not to mention that you would treat a high-octane situation as a catharsis, to blow off all the steam you must build up living in suburban Vale.

"And I do believe that joining would give you a once-in-a-lifetime combat experience."

Yang's poker face cracked, with a small, nervous smile gracing her features. "Very well," she quietly said.

Blake relaxed, satisfied. "Now, if you would be so kind to tell me how you know who I am?"

"Not now," Yang waved her off. She paced a couple of steps, and started towards the alleyway exit, towards the open street. "I need to get my things together." She looked at Blake one last time. "Give me half and hour. Meet me across the street, two blocks down that way." She pointed in the direction, and strode out of the alleyway, leaving an incredibly-annoyed Blake behind her.

* * *

The wooden door creaked as Weiss slowly and carefully shut it behind her. From the outside, the cabin looked like the size of a greenhouse, but the interior would have made a greenhouse seem a palace. Even though the cabin was darkly lit, Weiss could see a few furnishings of note: a bedroll, against the far wall, a faucet – not dripping, to Weiss' surprise – and a fire pit, closed off from the rest of the space. The pit was bare, but Weiss guessed that the person living in the cabin would use it rather regularly, especially when the winters came to the forest.

Suddenly, she felt her back slam against the ground, and the wind rush out of her lungs. Myrtenaster clattered to the ground, out of reach, as she struggled for air. A boot was being pressed on her stomach, with an unrelenting hold.

Weiss didn't bother struggling when she didn't have to. "It seems I've been getting pinned down quite a bit recently," she breathed, and grimaced when the boot pressed harder.

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Ah. There's that voice I know so well." Weiss let her head rest against the ground, so she was looking up at her attacker. "It's nice to see you again, Ruby."

* * *

**Well damn. There you go. I'm glad that I was able to write a longer chapter for some important scenes. Until next time!**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	4. Ash

**This is something I know you've been waiting for. Enjoy, for what little there is at the moment.**

**This chapter is shockingly short for a reason. Mainly, it's because chapter 5 will be really long. Potentially the longest yet. Not that much happens, mind you, but there will be a few things resolved. This chapter is to continue some of that good ol' set up.**

* * *

Weiss tried to sit up, but Ruby's boot on her stomach was keeping her firmly in place. "Do you mind…?"

"You seem fine from where I'm standing." Ruby's facial expression was unreadable in the poor light, but her voice dripped all manner of serious.

"Well, you might think that, since you're standing on _me_," Weiss huffed. "And you want to know what I want. I can't very well explain anything under duress now, can I? You know that I might just say anything to keep you onside with me."

Ruby looked wary, but lifted her boot anyway, and pulled Weiss up. "Yes, you would. Now, what do you want?" she repeated, but somewhat softer.

"I just want to talk to you," Weiss offered.

"Then maybe you'll forgive me if I throw you out of here and never look back." Ruby looked away from her. "After all, why would that be any different from the past for you?"

Weiss shook her head. "Ruby-"

"No!" Ruby yelled. It was like a sudden explosion. "I go for _four years_ without seeing you. _Four fucking years_, without any word, out here in this forest. Then suddenly, you show up, out of the red, and tell me you 'just want to talk.'" She let a silence hang over the two of them for a moment. "Well, get on with it, then. Stop wasting both our time, and say what you really want to. Then I'll decide which method I shall employ to eject you from my home."

Weiss sighed. "I… I need your help. I need you to join me for something I've got planned. I've been recruiting others…"

"What for? Elaborate."

"I… can't say. Not at this point," Weiss said uneasily. "But I'll be able to tell you if you come with me."

Ruby turned, and began to walk away from her. "I wish you luck," she said half-heartedly.

"I know I'm asking a lot, and I knew going in that it would be hard to convince you-"

"Hard? Try impossible."

"I…" Weiss visibly slumped at the cold shoulder, but quickly recovered. "I can't take no for an answer, Ruby."

Ruby laughed bitterly. "Is that supposed to be a threat? What are you going to do, Weiss?" She turned back around to face Weiss. "Are you going to instill fear in me, late at night? Send people to take me, against my will? Are you going to burn down my home sweet home? You were the one that decided to walk out one day without any explanation."

Weiss walked up to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder, a little surprised at the lack of resistance. She sighed, thumbing at the tattered cloth of Ruby's once-glorious crimson cloak. Suddenly, it was very interesting to her. "I know I made some awful mistakes in the past. And I'm sorry for how much those decisions affected you, and your life. But joining me… joining me would present a better opportunity than ever for you to move on, and get out of this makeshift existence you've made for yourself out here."

"You can add that recruiting spiel to that list of awful mistakes you've made; _I'm_ sorry that I won't be joining you." She brushed Weiss' hand off of her, and went to turn away again, when both of Weiss' hands gripped her shoulders, keeping her in place. She stared into the pale-blue eyes of Weiss, who stared straight back. Ruby felt a shiver down her spine, as she felt those eyes bore into her. They were piercing, in an intimidating way.

"Ruby. If you refuse me again, I'll walk out, and you won't have to deal with me ever again. But I'm hoping that you don't refuse me again, because I need _you_," Weiss said determinedly. And then, much softer, "_Please._" She held her gaze, and saw Ruby's dulled-grey eyes flash brilliant silver. It was as if a barely-sparking fire had flickered back to a respectable and warming form of life, albeit briefly.

Ruby exhaled shakily, also holding her stare. "Okay."

Weiss almost didn't believe what she'd heard. "… Okay?"

Ruby nodded once. "Okay."

Weiss sighed in relief. "Thank you," she whispered. Then, she quickly regained her composure, and gave Ruby a firm nod. "Let's move. I'll call my airship, and we can finally make a start on things."

* * *

"So, here we are, finally." Blake gestured. "Weiss Schnee's airship."

Yang looked around in slight wonderment. "I haven't seen anything like this before…"

"Yeah…" Blake said awkwardly, not sure how to further the exchange. "Uh… just, head for the briefing room, and wait for me in there. Help yourself to some coffee if you feel like it."

"Okay, sounds good!"

Blake watched Yang stroll away, and then shook her head when she almost immediately turned back around, a confused look on her face. "Follow the markers on the walls. Should take you right there," Blake said exasperatedly. Yang nodded and walked away again.

She reminded Blake of someone she once knew in the White Fang. One of her lieutenants, from when she led the organisation with Grayson. Very loyal to Blake, very skilled in combat, and very good at her job. Blake had rather liked her.

_Yes, her name was… actually, her name isn't important anymore, _she thought darkly. _Yes, she's dead now. She's been dead for 6 years. Like all the others. And that's the end of it._

* * *

Weiss waited for the briefing room door to slide open, patiently. She was expecting that Blake had succeeded in her task to recruit Yang to the team. The additions of Yang and Ruby meant that they had everyone they needed, and that she could proceed with the next stage of her mission. She was expecting that there would be considerable tension between every one of them, especially what with how much, or how little, rather, she had told them about her goals. But she at least knew that her recruits could take solace in the fact that she was about to reveal something extremely important to them.

The door opened, and Weiss was immediately relieved to see both Blake and Yang sitting and waiting. "Yang Xiao Long," she declared. "Welcome aboard."

Yang caught her eye and smirked in return. "The ringleader arrives. Blake here has been telling me that you won't tell us anything yet. Maybe now, we can finally get some answers."

"Well, I'm sure that…" Weiss trailed off, as she saw the mirth drain from Yang's face. She wasn't even looking at Weiss anymore, but rather, looking at who was behind her. "Ah, Ruby, there you are." Weiss stepped away, to let Ruby in the room, but Ruby stood still like her feet were bolted to the ground, exchanging a grim gaze with Yang, who stood up.

Blake looked between them in confusion. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on all life when Yang and Ruby had noticed each other. They were still staring each other down. Blake also noticed that Weiss was showing no sort of reaction to the tension.

Suddenly, the new recruit broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to tag along," Yang said, just as deliberately. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was asked to tag along as well." Ruby looked away from Yang, to Weiss, a stony expression on her face. "Can I see you outside?"

"Certainly," Weiss said, following Ruby out of the room. The "something extremely important" would have to wait for the time being.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Yang started pacing around the briefing room.

"What's the problem?" Blake asked, still confused.

Yang spun around to face her, and Blake saw that her eyes were now red instead of violet. Then Yang blinked and they were violet again. "I have history with Ruby," she said vaguely. "And not much of it is good."

"I'm not going to say please, if that's what you want."

Yang waved her hand at Blake. "It's a long story."

Blake contemplated. She could either physically influence Yang to talk, or she could try to use some of her vestiges of diplomacy. _Why not have both?_

She stood up and forced Yang into a chair. Then, she leaned back against the wall, with her arms crossed. "I don't mind a long story every now and again."

* * *

**Like I said at the top, the next go-around will be much meatier.**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	5. Revelations

**Rightio, let's crack on with it, shall we? I promised a longer chapter, and here we are.**

* * *

As soon as the door cut them off from the others, Ruby and Weiss walked a few steps away, just to make sure they wouldn't be heard.

Ruby started shaking her head. "I can't believe you brought _her_ along. You know what went down between me and her-"

"Her and I," Weiss corrected.

Ruby hissed, "You, and you alone, are the only one who knows."

Weiss nodded. "That is true."

Ruby's shoulders slumped, and she had to grab a guardrail to keep herself up. She looked more tired than angry, and almost unsteady. "Why would you try and do something like bring the two of us together?"

"Because," Weiss said. "I need both of you-"

"You could've gotten anyone else, and you decided to specifically get Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long," Ruby pointed out.

"I'm not lying to you, Ruby," Weiss said, matter-of-factly. She was clearly in an "onward-with-business" frame of mind. "I _do_ need both of you. Your abilities and your skills sets are only part of the equation. Hey, look at me," she said sternly, when Ruby's gaze drifted away. "I know that you've had a tough time of things over the years, and I know that Yang Xiao Long was a large reason why that was the case. And it would also seem that my being a hidden link in the chain also took a larger toll than either of us cared to admit at the time," she admitted, to Ruby's slight surprise.

* * *

"Hm," was the only indication that Blake had listened to Yang's mild explanation. "So much for the long version then?" Yang had very much skated over the story she was telling. She'd suggested that Ruby had done something, but she hadn't said what, and she was pausing often. It was as if the situation was particularly personal for her.

"Sorry," Yang said. "It's sensitive stuff; it _is _difficult to talk about." She took a deep breath and started over, with an air not unlike that of a wizened storyteller;

"I was a member of Vale's Special Task Force." She waited a moment for it to sink in to Blake that she hadn't always been a gym teacher. When she got a nod of understanding in silent reply, she continued, "I hadn't been in there long, but I managed to climb my way up pretty quickly, in terms of rank and respect. When you know what you're doing, and you have the skills to back it up, it makes a lasting impression the higher-ups.

"Anyway, 4 years ago, a man and woman were murdered in the heart of Vale's residential district. Strangled. There wasn't much to go on – there was actually nothing to go on, besides some ripcord, which the killer had thoughtfully polished off and left behind like a taunt – but then we managed to positively ID them as the parents of one Ruby Rose. It was our first promising lead, so STF followed it.

"Mind you, throughout that part of the investigation, I was always supportive of Ruby's innocence – I'd known her since she was a little girl, and I just couldn't believe that she would do something like murder her own parents. But I knew a few things: she hadn't had any kind of contact with her parents since she was 5 years old, she actually despised them for her childhood, and it had been years since I'd last seen her – one day, she just happened to fall off the grid, you see. As a cop, I had to, I _had _to consider the possibility. That consideration only grew in strength."

"How do you know that she despised her parents?"

Yang bit her lip. "Look… I know that I said that what I'm discussing with you is sensitive stuff, and I wasn't kidding. Ruby has changed a lot over the course of her life, and my opinion of her now isn't really indicative of how I once knew her. When she walked into this room a few minutes ago, I could still see that smiling teenager who was my best friend at the time, despite her new sullen and wary expression. I'm willing to discuss matters as they relate to her case, but I'm afraid I don't feel entirely comfortable with gossiping about her home life. Almost like I'm betraying those old memories of her. Stupid, I know, but that's me. She hated her parents, but that's all I'm willing to say on the subject. If you want more, it would be best to take it up with her. Now, back to my story.

"By digging deeper on the Ruby Rose lead, we uncovered more evidence that pointed to her. Coupled with what we knew about her past, by then my support for her was a specter of what it once was. It got to the stage where we'd finally managed to locate her, hiding in Forever Fall, migrating from place to place, and we were mobilizing our squads, getting ready to move in. I made it clear that I, and I alone, would lead the raid. They deliberated, considered everything, and moved me from being one of the lead investigators to the head of the operation."

"Really?" Blake interrupted Yang's spiel for the first time. It was a compelling story, she had to admit; almost bordering on the unbelievable.

"Yes. You see, the STF isn't a typical police force or investigative agency. We flaunted procedure, we broke the rules, we were ruthless. And we were fine with it, as long as we were hauling in the right people. Things like 'conflict of interest' didn't normally change anything in our other investigations, and it wasn't any different during the investigation of the Roses. I wanted to be the one who brought her in. I wanted to see if she regretted what she'd done. I wanted to see if she could just tell me why she did something so maniacally stupid. But… most of all, I think I really just wanted to ask her, _what happened? What happened to you, Ruby?_

"Anyway, we stormed the forest, and we found and surrounded Ruby Rose within minutes. She didn't run, didn't try to hide, and she otherwise didn't resist. She was shocked when I told her what we wanted her for, and she just kept pleading to me, claiming that she was innocent. So I did the only thing that was left for me to do – I knocked her out and took her into custody."

"Okay, well then…" Blake thought. She frowned at what she suspected was an incongruity. "Then why wasn't she recruited out of prison like I was? Surely she was convicted after that."

Yang's jaw clenched, and Blake could see her hands balling up into fists. "… The trial never took place," she said eventually.

Blake frowned. "Why?"

"The charges disappeared, and the case went away, simple as that." She had a stormy look on her face. "I was in her holding cell, about to haul her off to interrogation, when two of my colleagues walked in and took off her cuffs. I was furious – I think I slapped one of them, in fact – but 'orders are orders'. All of a sudden, we went from having a sure-fire conviction and life without parole, to the case just vanishing like it never existed. Ruby Rose walked out a free woman. She went and fell off the grid again five hours after her release."

Blake looked away. There were undoubtedly things about Ruby Rose that struck her as odd. The case of her dead parents, her ability to fall off the grid and sustain herself in the forest, and the fact that she actually had her entire case wiped by a figure lurking behind blacked-out curtains… it reminded her of… herself, as a matter of fact. She stared one of the screens on the wall. It was mainly information and news updates about what was happening back in the city. Nothing too special there. "Did you ever find out who wiped the case?" she asked finally.

"No," Yang admitted. "I didn't, and I couldn't. There was no trail. Nothing; it was just… gone, and that was it. I looked as long as I could, and hacked as much as I could before… well, before I decided to leave the STF and devote my time to fitness instead." She noticed the uneasy look on Blake's face, and smiled wistfully. "You know, I'm surprised to see the former leader of the White Fang looking so shocked at something like a double homicide."

"What did you think I did when I was leader?" Blake scowled. "If someone among my ranks had committed a deplorable act like murder of an innocent, I made sure they paid for it, not made sure that it was swept under the rug. If Ruby had been under my lead, and there was unequivocal proof that she really did it, I wouldn't have made her case go away. One other thing that you should know about me is that while I may have been part of and led, for a time, a radical left wing group, I never carried out a kill order either. People died in the course of physical conflict, and because they were went down fighting for a good cause, not because there was a hit and bounty on their head."

Yang sighed. Blake was striking her as more idealistic, and less ruthless, than she had initially predicted. "Mm."

"Which reminds me: how did you know who I was when we met down there?"

Yang tapped her finger on her knee. "Part of my job, before the Rose case, was to be the STF's representative to the government. One time, I got a bit curious when I was there, and I hacked the network."

Blake snorted. "You? I doubt that."

Yang smirked. "You would be surprised. I was training in intrusion and counter-intrusion before I started training in martial arts. Anyway, before they detected me and I was kicked from the network – alright, I was never the stealthiest amateur hacker in the world, after all, more of a 'smash 'n' grab' artist, really – I saw a memo, with your name alongside words such as 'White Fang' and 'leader', along with a nice little profile shot of you. Like a package wrapped in a little black bow. It didn't mean anything to me at the time, so I didn't bother looking any further, but…" She looked Blake up and down curiously. "Clearly it was a good thing I saw it."

_That's… odd. How did information on me get to the government?_ Blake thought, concerned. "Why was it a good thing?"

"Because, Weiss Schnee doesn't know that I saw it, and here we all are."

* * *

"Ruby…"

Ruby's vision was swimming slightly. She had been experiencing bouts of unexplained disorientation over the course of the past few months. Initially, she brushed it off, dismissing it as an imbalance in her diet, which itself suffered from her making a life in the forest.

Her diet generally consisted of plant food – she was able to easily identify which plants in the forest were edible, which plants were lethal upon consumption, and which plants were dangerous to even touch. When she was able to, she would occasionally collect sap from the trees, which was like a thick syrup or spread. The natural sugar content of the sap was highly concentrated, so she would have to carefully monitor how much of the sweet substance she ingested every week – she'd had some interesting experiences in the past after having too much of it. As such, her forays to collect the sap were sparing, at most. Rarer still were the occasions when she managed to catch an animal. Rabbit was the most common game she was able to trap. Whenever she was lucky enough to snare one, she would skin it with a combat knife – stolen – and cook it in the fire pit in her cabin. One time in the winter, she caught a deer. She hadn't had to go out for food for a number of days, and the generous amount of snow had kept the meat preserved for her.

Iron deficiency was likely the cause of her dizziness, she often thought, basing her diagnosis off of general osmosis, and next-to-no actual medical experience. But the condition had grown somewhat more concerning in the intervening months. She found that she now suffered from nosebleeds, debilitating headaches, and dizziness to the point of her vision blacking out. At this point, she could barely hear Weiss saying her name.

"Ruby!" Weiss barked, and grabbed Ruby by the arms to steady her. "Are you alright?"

Ruby could hear her own breathing louder than she could hear Weiss. Briefly, she considered letting Weiss know of her predicament. But only briefly; she ultimately decided against it. She would see the onboard-doctor in her own time. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine," she said hastily, and grabbed hold of the guardrail again. "Just… ships, you know. I'm sure you've been up here a lot over the past few years, but spare a thought for the relatively inexperienced. Please, go on."

Weiss didn't look at all satisfied with her answer, looking a little concerned, but she had an agenda to keep to, so she pressed on anyway. "What do you know about what happened 4 years ago? You already know that your case vanished. Do you know why you walked out of that holding cell like _that?_" She snapped her fingers for unnecessary emphasis.

"No," Ruby replied, her faculties slowly coming back to her, like a wave pushing further and further up a beach, covering more ground with each passing second. As painful as it was for her to experience the actual condition, it was equally unpleasant for her when she regained her composure. A double-edge sword, and a rather irritating after-effect. "No, I don't." She took a deep breath. "I was just happy to be free at the time."

"I was the one who erased your investigation."

Ruby's gaze flicked downwards, as she thought long and hard about what to say. That conclusion had never presented itself it to her, but the more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed to her. She was surprised nonetheless, and she wasn't one to be surprised too easily. "… I admit I'm shocked, but in retrospect it was probably more obvious than I realized," she said at last. "Why did you do that?"

"It's simple," Weiss said. "I always believed you were innocent, and any doubt I had wasn't enough to stop me from wanting to clear you."

"I don't understand… I would've been found innocent anyway."

Weiss shook her head. "Are you still that naïve, Ruby? With the evidence mounted against you, there was no way that you would've been found innocent in a trial. They would've nailed you for life without parole, a term you would have almost certainly served at Vale Corrections. Who knows," she added. "You probably would've met Blake there…"

"But I _was _innocent!" Ruby snapped. "I'm _still _innocent, as a matter of fact."

"I did mention doubt, didn't I? Too much time had passed for me to be sure. My doubt started to grow after you were released, and went back to the forest."

She had lived with Ruby in the forest after the case was wiped, for several months, in order to help Ruby sort out exactly what sort of reclusive life she wanted for herself. She shifted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Every day after your release, it was like a malignant tumor, spreading exponentially, to the point where I began to doubt myself. I was asking myself questions like; _did I do the right thing by clearing her?_

"I often found myself dreaming of scenarios of what might have happened if I hadn't cleared you. I'm sorry, but I simply couldn't go on believing in you or what I was doing for you. _That's _why I left you out in the forest. I didn't so much walk out on you as I decided to distance myself. It wasn't because I needed to return to overseeing the Schnee affairs full-time, although that is indeed what I ended up doing.

"You and I go back a long way, Ruby," she continued. "Even further back than you and Yang. You're like a younger sister to me, and I don't mean that patronizingly. Have you forgotten how we met, and everything I've done for you in the years since?"

"Of course not," Ruby said softly. "I would never forget everything you've done for me. Yang was a good friend a long time ago – before she accused me of parricide and knocked me unconscious – but you've always been by my side. And now I have one more thing to remember you for, right under _helping me get my life together post-release._"

"Hm." Weiss crossed her arms. "Well, I'd rather you that forget this thing in particular. Until the day comes when we can actually nail who really killed your parents. I mean, it's not like I have any plans for it at the moment, but I think we certainly can do it someday soon."

"Does Yang know what you did?"

"She knows that your case was wiped. Not by whom, and while I'm hopeful that it doesn't happen, we may have to prepare for the possibility that she finds out that it was me over the course of our upcoming alliance. I'm also well aware of your mutual cooperative reticence, but I need you both to work past it in order for us to succeed, because Ruby Rose, and Yang Xiao Long, and Blake Belladonna... you are all as crucial to this project's success as I am.

"Shall we reconvene with the others?"

Ruby nodded, content, and they re-entered the briefing room. Blake had just finished processing what Yang had told her when the door opened, while Yang was simply waiting. Ruby stood back by the door, as Weiss took a seat in the relative middle of the group.

Weiss held up her hand in front of her face, as if she was examining her nails, or the back of her hand. "Ask away," she said casually.

"What are we doing?" Blake asked immediately.

"A series of high-value operations so covert, that we four are the only ones that will ever know what's going on." Weiss put her hand down. "While what we will be doing will be incredibly risky-"

"Knew it," Yang muttered. _This was what she wanted me for. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it… and yet, I'm still sitting here. Well, I _am _on an airship, I suppose._

Weiss ignored her. "-Our actions will nevertheless be crucial for the future of our realm as we know it. Until now, I have been the only one actually able to do anything about it – for various reasons – but with all of us… maybe now we finally have a shot."

A brief silence passed, and Ruby chose to speak up. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Weiss hesitated. "Over the years, people have referred to me as an empress, of sorts. Granted, Schnee is a worldwide brand, with a large hold in Vale, but generally terms such as 'emperor', 'empress' and 'empire' have always struck me as more befitting of a robed conqueror sailing the seas with a vast fleet, preparing to sack cities made of white stone. Nevertheless, some people have quite taken to using these terms as identifiers for me, so… whatever.

"I have a confession to make," Weiss said, without any trace of guilt or regret, the usual components of a textbook confession. "Now, this may seem rather contrived to you, but I am not just 'Weiss Schnee, Dust Empress'. You see, I am also 'Weiss Schnee, Director and Operative of Clandestine Affairs'."

She chuckled softly. "At least, that's how I like to think of myself sometimes."

* * *

**Plot hooks, plot hooks. For those of you wondering, there will be no romance in this story. Furthermore, Weiss and Ruby didn't have a romantic relationship, as some have suggested. Sorry to disappoint (and sorry to confuse; I realize that I may have broadcasted some mixed messages last chapter), but I refuse to pander by injecting a random pairing into the mix, even if it may be the most popular pairing in the entire fandom. That's not what this story will be. You want a RWBY romance, perhaps it is best that you look elsewhere. (Perhaps you can start by checking out my other new project, Static Flow! (Shameless plug.))**

**Anyway, there is a brief hint or two in Ruby and Weiss's conversations this chapter as to what their connection is, but the whole story will be revealed all in good time.**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	6. Old Friends

**Long chapter...**

* * *

The level of stunned tension in the air was palpable. It didn't show so much on Weiss's face, but she knew that it was a big enough pill to swallow, so she let her revelation hang over her team for the moment.

The news was surprising for Ruby, but given Weiss's _other_ revelation, the wiping of her murder charges, it made enough sense. If Weiss were to have a high enough standing in Vale's government as she claimed, it gave her powers which, combined with her considerable corporate powers, would certainly allow her to influence any number of decisions, as well as make decisions which she could then erase from history. For example, allowing Ruby to walk free by preventing her likely-pending convictions was not outside the realm of those possibilities.

Weiss's announcement had thrown Blake. For the first time since walking out of VCF, she felt truly disturbed by the actions of her minder. If she was going to be working in an environment where a so-called government officer had to recruit a couple of cons and an ex-cop to help her with some curtains-down operations, then it struck her with irony with that anything was possible.

She shifted uncomfortably. _Sure, it does explain how she orchestrated my release and faking my death log and the whole mess with Ruby… but still, this just throws up more questions than it does answers._

"Hang on, I understand you're a shady bitch; we all get that much," Yang said finally. "But I had my own involvements with the government a number of years ago, and I know for a fact that not one hint of you ever passed me."

"Of course," Weiss said. "That would be too easy, after all. Especially after you stumbled your way onto that memo about Blake." She reached inside her jacket, and produced a small flash drive. "The data on this drive is layered with enough encryption to make your head spin, hacker." She tossed the drive to Yang.

Yang plugged the drive into her own scroll and frowned. "Okay, I'm looking at gibberish and… recipes for cookies?"

Weiss then walked over to her and held up a scroll – a scroll different to the ones Blake had seen her using – which she also handed over to Yang. "This scroll contains the only program in living memory that is able to accurately decrypt all that data. And even then, some data has been redacted – for obvious reasons, you understand."

"Did you erase the data yourself?"

"Of course," Weiss said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "By now, you've undoubtedly observed that I have… issues with divulging certain information."

Yang pulled the drive out of her scroll, and plugged it into the one Weiss had handed her. Almost immediately, she found a personnel file. What she found disappointed her. "All it says is your name and labels your status as an emissary. It doesn't exactly prove anything."

"I admit, there are as many layers shrouding my behaviors as there are encryptions hiding that data. I don't work for any particular department, but I do help – on a highly-classified basis – to control things behind the scenes. I create liaisons, broker alliances, secure assets, and – more recently – perform combat assignments, which are just as classified and discreet.

"There is a certain security and reassurance in being able to count on one hand the number of people who know the true nature of what I do. Before this day, there were exactly three people who ever knew: myself, an old friend who gave his life in my service, and our Prime Minister."

The exchange with Prime Minister Greene had taken place when Weiss had first taken control of the Schnee Dust empire. She was 16, and flexing her muscles in a winning battle to stay on top of potential competitors who had sprung up after hearing news of her succeeding her father.

Her succession was a murky affair. One morning, her father was quite busy. He paid an early visit to the office, where Weiss assumed he was going over reports and the like. Then he returned to the mansion, packed a bag, and walked out again. Weiss had thought nothing of it, until her mother started asking questions about her father's whereabouts. They asked the company if he was there, to which they replied that he was not. They continued to follow up, but all their efforts were in vain. Birger Schnee, one of the most powerful men on the planet, had disappeared completely.

That same night, Weiss and her exhausted mother had gotten a call from the office. Weiss was to be present for an emergency board meeting at once. Not one to be intimidated, she went in lieu of her mother to the meeting, and learned that her father had not been going over reports and the like that morning. He had arranged for her to succeed him in every way and take control, effective immediately. Naturally, the board attempted to stifle the matter, believing that a teenage girl would be out of her depth. They had suggested that Weiss hand control over to her father's executive, an idea she immediately rejected. _She _would take control and succeed her father, as he had planned and arranged for. She was steadfast in the face of the naysaying board, before she decided that she'd heard enough of their whining. She concluded the meeting by stating that she would start the next day, and warning them that with her father gone, other companies would come calling to see how much they could wean out of Birger Schnee's daughter. She gave them an ultimatum: to get on board with new management or tender their resignations and signatures on a non-disclosure agreement.

To her surprise, they stayed. It seemed to her that they had at least come to an agreement to wait and see what she would do before they came to any decisions.

Her prediction about potential competitors had come true within an hour of her first day, and she wasted no time. Given that the company was running smoothly internally, she deemed it okay to leave day-to-day matters in the hands of her subordinates, and arranged to meet with each competitor ("No, don't bother with a representative. I'll meet the chairman myself.").

After a week since her succession, the Schnee Dust Company had bought out four of those "potential competitors", and initial projections for the rest of the year were showing a spike. Weiss Schnee was showing that she was not a foolish young girl out of her depth, and her board members believed as much. Not one of them left.

After a month since her succession, she was being touted as one of the most significant businesswomen in history. She scoffed at those labels. She didn't care for the praises being showered upon her, because she knew that there was still a long way to go.

One particular day, she was sitting alone out in the large garden of the mansion, just pondering. Melancholy was settling down all around her when she came to a decision. She couldn't explain how she came to the decision, but she just did. She placed a call to Government House, and requested a one-on-one meeting with the Prime Minister for the next morning. The voice of the woman on the other end sounded panicked, saying that they couldn't schedule a one-on-one with such little notice. Weiss had simply uttered a few phrases that made the other woman quickly reconsider. She told Weiss to hold, went into the Prime Minister's office, and came out a minute later, telling Weiss that the Prime Minister would see her at 10.00 AM the next morning. Weiss hung up the phone, and left the garden as her mother's coffin was lowered into the ground. She had fallen to a debilitating heart attack at the age of 36.

Prime Minister Fredrick Greene was an old man, but he was no fool. It was no surprise to Weiss that he was in his third term, and early projections had him slated to be re-elected. When he had first come to power, he booted out a number of members of his new government. It was later revealed that they had all been conspiring to undermine his position in legislative process. Weiss considered him to be as shrewd as herself, which marked him as a very competent man in her eyes. For once, she couldn't predict how a person would react to something she had to say. It excited her.

So she spoke to Greene, and told him what she wanted: to open up an unofficial post in the government for her to fill. Officially, she would serve as an emissary between the largest Dust company in the world and the government, which would allow for her to assist in matters of defense. But of course – and Greene had suspected as much – that there was more to it than that. Indeed, Weiss also sought, unofficially, to use that as a cover for other actions. She would have capacity to run operations, of varying natures. She would come and go of her own volition, she would not have to report to anyone, and she would involve herself in whatever matters she chose. In short, she sought total control of her dealings and future actions. Her requests were unorthodox and even suspicious, she knew that, but she knew that Greene could see just what the requests meant: she would be able to do what she wanted, utilizing the vast resources of his administrative office, and he would get someone who could secure alliances and perform operations he had never even dreamed of, as well as a nice defense agreement on the side. He was hesitant about keeping the knowledge of her true actions to himself though, suggesting that the Minister for Defense or the Deputy Prime Minister should be informed, but Weiss was adamant in expressing her desire for her true role to remain their secret. It took 30 minutes, but the old man finally caved. They then spent the next hour going over preliminary planning. He would make the necessary arrangements for her official appointment, as emissary to the Department of Defense, and give her a budget – small to begin with, to keep scrutinizing eyes away – and he would also personally arrange that she have access to all the information that she needed. He would formally announce her appointment the following day.

Weiss noticed that Greene wasn't quite living up to her expectations. In fact, he was acquiescing rather easily to her requests. When she brought it up, he had smiled wryly. He explained to her that a number of concerning issues and rumors had surfaced from outside the city, but he didn't have enough justification or evidence to pursue any such leads, but that now an opportunity had presented itself. After that, he had gotten up and pulled a flash drive out of his desk. It was his only copy, he said, and would provide her with a good place to start. He further said that once she left his office, she would not have to see him again for the rest of, well, _his _life.

After a short while, and more assurances, they wrapped up their meeting, and Weiss left his office, excited at the prospect of new avenues to explore. Greene simply sat down and started making the arrangements.

She told most of this story – she didn't bother leaving anything about her family out; the mass public already knew of her father's disappearance and her mother's untimely death; it had been highly-publicized at the time – to her new cohorts, who simply continued to be stunned.

"So you're simply staying out of the spotlight," Blake said after not too long.

"Oh, there's nothing simple about it," Weiss chuckled. "But yes, that is the essence of my work. Doing stuff behind the scenes is just about the simplest description I can give it." She turned to Yang. "Pull up file 50483_CONSTRUCT. I assume you know this by now – naturally only I have access to these files, but it is best to be on the safe side."

"So, all I'm seeing are building plans and useless manifestos for heritage buildings," Yang shook her head.

"Run the file through the program DryWall…" Weiss directed, watching her. "Okay, and then run it again through the program Asphyxia."

Yang gasped in surprise, as page after page faded onto the screen. Weiss watched her scrolling through, with a slight smile. "What you are looking at is my entire catalog of work over the last six months – manipulating reports, planting false trails, even an assassination or two… small stuff. This file is called… hm, let me remember… ah yes, PRIME. PRIME is set to purge itself tomorrow – and then I'll pick a new name for my archive – but none of that's a problem when one has a photographic memory. I just type out the reports for the sake of establishing coherent timelines and whatnot, and then I let them expire when they are scheduled to."

"So on top of everything, you have a photographic memory as well?" Yang said in astonishment.

"What happened to being the naysayer, Yang Xiao Long?" Weiss smirked. "It all does seem rather far-fetched, but I assure you that everything I'm telling you is true."

"Okay; why do you need us?" Yang wondered aloud.

Ruby spoke up before Weiss could answer: "Because she wants us to take over."

Weiss nodded. "Correct. Recent events – and we'll get to that at another meeting – have been causing my various priorities and handpicked directives to pile up quite impressively. What I need from each of you is to conduct some of the more 'hands-on' assignments and tasks, while I duck behind another set of curtains and work further behind the scenes."

To say that Blake, Ruby and Yang were skeptical, suspicious even, was an understatement.

"I know what each of you probably thinks about all this. You must be telling yourselves that I'm sort of paranoid crackpot. Maybe I am, but I still know what I'm doing." She clasped her hands together in her lap. "I apologize for the way I brought each of you into the picture, but I won't apologize for involving you. Believe it or not, you three are the right women for what I need, and I suggest that you just roll with the punches for the time being, which is something I know you are all very capable of."

The three recruits thought about their choices, but each of them came to conclusion that they didn't have much. Blake had no choice whatsoever, being in Weiss's custody. Yang figured that she probably wouldn't be able to get off the ship alive with the information she now knew. Ruby felt very tentative about it, but she supposed that it was better to do something productive rather than waste away in the forest.

"Well, we're here now." She moved away from the wall, and sat down. "Where do we start?"

Weiss smiled at her, and took back her scroll and flash drive from Yang. Then she passed each of them a small datapad. "Your first mission – sounds exciting, doesn't it? – is basically a snatch-and-grab. One week from now, I will be attending a function at an embassy on Patch Island. The occasion really has nothing to do with me; there was a big trade agreement signed by a few regions, and I was invited – I suppose for the pride in saying that Weiss Schnee came to their mundane party. You'll find more information in the datapad." She got up, and walked towards the exit.

"Wait!" Blake called after her. "We still need answers: why did you choose us specifically? And what did you mean by 'the future of our realm'?"

"You have a job to do now… perhaps that discussion will be best suited for another time." Weiss paused in her exit. "I almost forgot – each of you has a storage locker, located on the subdeck below us. You can find your weapons there."

Yang glanced at Blake, then looked back to Weiss. "What kinds of weapons?"

"I managed to use my contacts in this matter. I unearthed a couple of prototype blueprints, and…" She looked at Blake. "Found _your_ old friend."

Yang looked at Blake curiously as Weiss left them alone. "What did she mean by that?"

"… Nothing," Blake said, and put her head down. "Let's start going over this stuff." She glanced either side of her, and saw that Yang and Ruby were now both silently scrolling through their objectives. She opened the assignment dossier and started reading.

* * *

The Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe was a rather multi-faceted weapon, and as the only one of its kind, it deserved to be. Stripped down to its central combat element, it was a katana. It had a much larger cross-guard than a usual sword though, and this particular cross-guard was actually not a cross-guard, but rather an inbuilt semi-automatic pistol, able to fire different forms of Dust ammunition at close and an impressively long range. To add to this feature, the blade was collapsible, allowing for better lines of sight in projectile-based combat and increased firing power compared to the standard blade form. Despite the mechanics and the materials involved, it was still rather light, and this katana-pistol component could be held comfortably with one hand.

The other component of the weapon was comparatively simple: the sheath of the weapon was in fact a weapon in itself. Boasting a sharpened edge, it practically served as an oversized cleaver, sharp enough for slashing yet still dull enough to be effectively used a blunt force instrument. It had a handle of its own, and could be held in the wielder's other hand.

Attaching the sheath to the blade was a black ribbon of sorts. This ribbon was especially useful with its durability and elasticity – it could be used to swing both the sheath and the sword through the air without having to weigh the wielder down. An interesting trick was wrapping the ribbon around the trigger of the pistol and then swinging the weapon through the air. If it were to be pulled taut enough, it could function in a manner similar to the drawstring of a bow, capable of launching an object – or a person – through the air at a decent velocity.

Still, the entire weapon was light enough to be slung across the wielder's back.

In short, it was the ideal all-purpose weapon for a scout, fully capable of dealing enormous damage while remaining discreet about it all.

It had been Blake's weapon of choice once upon a time until she had foolishly lost it. It was the only one of its kind, and now it was hers again.

In a perfect world, she might have felt elated to have it back after so long. Or perhaps she might not have lost it in the first place. But instead she felt indifference as she stared blankly at it, propped up in her storage locker. She knew that it was her weapon, and only her weapon, but it didn't _feel _like her weapon.

She had designed the weapon herself. It was after she had completed her first job as part of the White Fang, and it took almost a year until she completed it. Of course, she had built it too big for her small stature of the time, which rendered it useless for those particular years (though her cohorts told her that she had done an extremely impressive job with it). For a long time after she built the weapon, which she christened "Gambol Shroud", she made sure to maintain it, and train with it on a daily basis. It was a struggle for her at first, due to the weapon's size and different components – until she started leading the White Fang, she would take basic light weaponry like pistols and knives into combative situations – but consistent training paid off. By the time she turned 16, she was almost as tall as she was ever going to be, and Gambol Shroud was fitting to her build nicely. She had long since mastered rudimentary wielding of the weapon, and was into the stage of perfecting different techniques and weaving them all together to create an overall fighting style.

But for all her hard work, she only ever got to use Gambol Shroud once in a mission. It was after she began leading the organisation, and it was really not even a major mission. It was a train raid that she performed solo, where the objective was to secure the train and the rare metals it had for cargo until a larger party came to transport the metals. There was a reasonable amount of protection, in the form of security droids, but they were easily negotiable with her new weapon. She completed the raid within 15 minutes, and lost the weapon that same night.

Now, standing in front of her open locker on the subdeck of Weiss's ship, it was the first time she had seen it since that night. She couldn't really care less about it.

But no matter her feelings towards the weapon which had once been hers, it had found its way into her possession again, and it was now hers to take care of. She owed it to her months of work a long time ago to at least take it apart and clean it.

Behind her, she heard another locker door swing open – Ruby's. She spun around when she heard the sound of a metal object hitting the floor. Ruby was standing over what looked like a red, metal rectangle, which looked like it could fold out into something even bigger.

"I don't believe this," Ruby muttered.

Blake looked around. Despite the commotion, they were the only two in that area of the subdeck, Yang having retired to her quarters after their preliminary reading of the mission brief.

Ruby shook her head. "I _don't _believe this…"

Blake walked up behind her. "What is it?"

"My weapon."

Ruby bent down and picked up the "weapon". The way she held it, Blake noticed, was as if she was cradling it. "She actually made Crescent Rose…"

"Crescent Rose?"

"My nickname for it. It's 'officially' called a High Caliber Sniper-Scythe. Basically, it's a hybrid between a scythe and a sniper rifle, if you couldn't tell."

"Really?"

"Do you want to see it? From what I remember, it's pretty big… and this _is _the subdeck, after all."

Blake's curiosity was very much piqued. "Well, if you want."

Ruby nodded, as if pleased with her response. "Stand back." She held the object out in front of her, and flicked a switch on the side.

Rapidly, the rectangle transformed: the top and bottom halves of the rectangle swung outward, revealing a barrel, which extended in both directions. The lower half of the barrel formed a rifle barrel with a scope and small blade on the end. At the top, what were previously the "halves" of the rectangle also extended, forming a large crescent-shaped blade. True enough to what Ruby said, it did indeed resemble a giant, red scythe.

The transformation only took about a second or so, and the uninitiated would have missed the many aspects of the whirring, quasi-automatic transformation. But Blake was hardly the uninitiated. As a faunus, her enhanced sight caught it, and her brain processed the images almost instantly. As a weapon designer herself, Blake could appreciate how much work had gone into building the weapon and creating it. There appeared to be a significant number of mechanisms in the weapon, and she knew that such a design would throw up an even greater number of variables, which then had to be contained through fail-safes and a constant refining of the instruments.

One thing that she noticed in particular was the sheer size of the weapon. Not only was it large by the standards of a scythe or a rifle, but it was also much larger than Ruby herself. She wondered how the younger woman could possibly be able to use it.

"I know what you're thinking," Ruby said, reading Blake's mind, "and the size won't be a problem in good time."

"You sounded surprised when you saw it…"

"Mm. I've never seen it in a physical form until now. I actually designed the blueprints for this baby a long time ago."

She stared distantly at Crescent Rose.

"When I was younger, starting out in combat school, it took me a while before I decided what weapon I wanted to make – all students designed their own weapons there – but one day, I came across one of the elder weapons masters, who was out demonstrating different kinds of swordplay. I watched him as he worked his way through all the weapons, only sort of paying attention. But then he started swinging around a scythe. It initially caught my attention because it wasn't a sword. It was about as large as he was, and it didn't have a gun or anything like that.

"I was mesmerized by the moves he was performing, like some sort of staged choreography. But it had a much deeper resonance. It carried deadly promise in its blade, and unflinching power in its swing. For a long time, I went to him in my spare time, learning how to use a scythe. I told him the ideas I had, like attaching a high caliber rifle to it and using the momentum of the recoil to swing the weapon around. But by the time I realized that a scythe was what I really wanted to build, I had already built a half-assed pistol, and that was that – we were given only one chance to make our weapons, and no amount of begging would change that. So I started drawing up blueprints. It was the best I could do, since I couldn't get the raw materials. Then came the day when I finished the blueprints, gave it a name, and filed it away. That was all I could do with them. Weiss must have found them somehow. Of course she had the resources to make this thing…"

She looked at Blake, just as a glint of light reflected off Gambol Shroud. "Your weapon looks interesting. Show me." She flicked the switch again, and Crescent Rose folded back into its compact, rectangular shape.

Blake looked taken aback. "Uh… fine." She pulled Gambol Shroud out of her locker and handed it to Ruby.

"Interesting indeed," Ruby muttered as she removed the sheath. She studied the collapsible blade and pistol / cross-guard, and the ribbon. "A good weapon. A scout's weapon. Did you design it yourself?"

"I did. But I didn't get to use it straight away, because I was 12 when I made it, and it was too big to take out for combat until after I turned 16. And I only ever used it on a mission once. This is the first time I've seen it since I was 16…"

"What happened?"

"It's a tale of teenage stupidity. After the aforementioned one time I got to use it, I decided to celebrate by getting drunk with Haron Grayson – the guy who was the 'public' leader of our little band of legitimate faunus businessmen. Anyway, the night wore on, and a good time was being had by us both, when the suggestion of a game of poker came up. I don't know who suggested it – it could've been me, considering how drunk I was."

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "You lost your personally-designed weapon in a card game?"

"Like I said, stupidity. Of course, the day afterwards, I asked him what he'd done with it, and he had the balls to tell me that he seemed to have 'misplaced it'. I gave him a whack, but decided to let it go, since it was mainly my fault anyway. Then that whole affair with Menagerie happened less than a week later, and Gambol Shroud slipped my mind completely… I have no clue how Schnee managed to find it…"

Ruby passed Gambol Shroud back to Blake. "It's not unlikely that she could go digging around in White Fang headquarters for it. Maybe she had someone on the inside who took it from your Grayson and delivered it to her."

"What?"

"I said she might have had someone on the inside."

"No. I don't believe that. I was a part of them since I was born and I led them for two years. If there was anyone inside the organisation who shouldn't have been, I would've known about it."

"Mm. Whatever you say."

A silence passed as both women put their respective weapons back inside their respective lockers.

Blake keyed in her passcode, securing the locker. "What's your connection to Weiss?"

Ruby pretended not to hear the question, and rubbed a hand across her face. "I should go."

"Um… did you hear me?"

"We should talk again." Ruby gave her a small wave and started up the stairwell.

"Wait, what?" Blake started after her, but too late. She noticed a gleam of something wet on the floor by the stairwell. She crouched down and touched it with her fingers. _Blood?_

She shook it off and fiddled with the straps adorning her right arm. Ruby had seemed personable enough – hardly the murderer Yang made her out to be. She was a weapons nut, Blake reckoned, thinking about the way she had caressed Crescent Rose as if it were a newborn, and examined her Gambol Shroud with a dissecting eye. But as soon as Blake had attempted to turn the conversation to Weiss, she dodged the question. _No, she didn't even dodge the question. She just ignored it like the words never came out of my mouth._

It had been a long day for Blake. She had an annoying headache, and her new teammates – if they could be called that – were nothing short of infuriating. She walked up to Ruby's locker, and slammed her fist into the door. _Why the fuck can't I get any answers around here?!_

* * *

Ruby's door would be locked. Yang knew that much, as she approached the young woman's quarters. She raised her fist to knock, and hesitated. _Maybe it's too soon to try and talk to her. It would fit with her character if she told me to go away._

"What are you doing?"

Yang stepped back and turned around. Ruby was standing behind her. She was looking straight ahead at the door, but was obviously addressing Yang.

"Uh… just came for a chat."

Ruby started punching in her door code. "Leave me. I have nothing to say to you."

Yang grabbed her arm, interrupting the code. Ruby slowly lifted her head to look at Yang.

"Why are you still here?" Ruby's voice was deliberate, dangerous.

"This first mission has the two of us working in tandem. I thought it would be a good idea for us to talk ahead of time, just to make the air between us a little easier.

Ruby shrugged her arm free. "We'll get the job done. It's as simple as that, and doesn't have to require anything more."

"Hey! I never wanted to believe you were guilty, you know!" Yang hissed. "You left me no choice!"

"How dare you… how dare you bring that up again. I never would've murdered my own parents. You say I left you no choice. You're wrong. You had plenty of choices, and you chose to torch our friendship." Yang opened her mouth, but Ruby cut her off. "It's time for you to go to your own quarters."

Yang turned around.

"Hey," Ruby said.

Yang looked over her shoulder. Ruby was halfway in her room. Her expression was somewhat softer, and her voice not as harsh. "We can do this. All we have to do is cooperate, and watch each other's backs until Weiss tells us to stop. Then who knows? We might survive to the one day in the future when we can talk about it."

With that, Ruby shut her door, and Yang walked away.

* * *

**So, that was the product of spending the past 3 days writing and editing. I hope you liked it. If you didn't - and I know why - then I promise that you'll get some action in the next chapter. I have no idea how long this story will be. At this stage, it might be anywhere from 15-23 chapters. I don't know if it will be done when I get back to Different Shades of Life, but that's still 3 months away, so time will tell.**

**Anyway, please continue to do all that stuff like follow, favorite and review. It's nice to see that this story is doing so well so early in.**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


	7. Playing With Fire

**You'll likely hate me at the end of this chapter, but oh well. Enjoy nevertheless!**

* * *

The straps around her arm felt loose, so Blake took a moment to readjust them and re-tighten them before she approached Weiss's cabin. When the door opened, she was surprised at the sight of the woman within.

Weiss stepped back from the wall mirror by her bed. Her pale blue dress hung from her shoulders like a seamless, flowing curtain, falling from her shoulders to her feet. It was well-tailored – at 5' 4", Weiss wasn't necessarily tall compared to the likes of Yang, who topped out at almost 5' 8" – and it suited her figure. Her chest wasn't particularly ample, nor were her hips particularly wide, but the dress hugged her slender form in a way that it seemed to accentuate those areas.

The interesting feature of the dress was the sleeves. They were long, coming down to her wrists, and unlike the rest of the dress, they were made of a see-through, mesh-type fabric. There were patterns laced into them, and after closer examination, Blake realized that the patterns were of snowflakes. The snowflake logo of the Schnee Dust Company, to be exact.

Weiss didn't wear lipstick – her lips held a naturally full coloring, something that many would envy – and the only other makeup she wore was black eyeliner, which succeeded in making her icy gaze all the more piercing.

Weiss regarded Blake, who was simply decked out in a trousered, combat-booted, black ensemble, with her hair loosely tied.

"Yes?"

There was the slightest note of impatience in Weiss's voice, which Blake wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been searching for it.

"Two hours until go-time."

"Indeed, and?"

"I just wanted to quickly run over the briefing again."

Weiss sat down, and motioned for Blake to sit across from her. "Have you found any issues since we went over it yesterday?"

Blake pulled out her datapad.

"If there were any new issues – and I'm hoping that's not the case –," Weiss continued, "then I at least wish that you had brought them to me before I slipped into this garb." She gestured at her dress. "Now, I was quite surprised with how thorough you've been with this directive since you received it."

"I don't know why you were surprised. You know that I had to plan out ops with the White Fang in a certain way to keep my identity a secret. Of course I have to be meticulous."

Since she, Yang and Ruby had received their objective a week ago, Blake had seen fit to take charge of the operation, as she would be the one doing the majority of the heavy-lifting.

Weiss clasped her hands in her lap. "So, time is of the essence. I think I'll air this topic again: you still have a problem working with Yang and Ruby."

"I know we've talked about it before, but I'm still not sold on coordinating ops with two people who have so much animosity between them. And this is probably the furthest away I'll be from them during an operation. I don't have to deal with their shit first-hand, but it also means I'm putting an extraordinary amount of faith in them to hit their cues at the right time and make sure they don't compromise the op."

"You can expect to work much more closely with them in future, yes," Weiss said, nodding. "It's an interesting situation, but I wouldn't worry about it. Both of them have of them what it takes, and if tonight's proceedings pan out as planned, we'll get through this op without any major problems."

"Okay." Blake paused, consulting her datapad, and continued, "So, run-through. While you're milling around, shaking hands with businessmen and the like, I'll slip into the mansion through the broken vent in the monitor room, and get my way into the main office."

"Where you will steal some particular documents and get out," Weiss picked up. "Do I have to keep reminding you to neutralise the security?"

"I'm not sure if you knew this when you started 'recruiting' me, but I have a thing about unnecessary slaughter."

"I did know that, and it doesn't faze me. This is not unnecessary slaughter; this is neutralisation. You can't afford to risk them getting alerted to your presence during your part of the op. That would be one of the worst scenarios possible, because they'll kill you on the spot, and then they'll start asking questions of the guests. I can bluff and answer my way through that, and hopefully Yang will as well, but Ruby is too temperamental and it's been too long for me to predict what she'll do anymore. That could lead to an even bigger disaster."

"But I don't _need _to kill them. When I have a choice, it's better to use stealth. I've never been caught with stealth, and killing leaves traces. Bodies, blood, prints, hair. All a waste of time. And besides, Yang and Ruby will essentially kill them for me when I'm done. Isn't that their plan?"

"Yes. Essentially. But I'm not asking you to get into a shootout. Slit their throats, garrotte them-"

Blake was stubborn. "So it makes things easier."

Weiss glowered at her. "The reason I made it their plan was because I knew you would choose this point to ride the moral high ground."

"That's not my problem."

"Well, hopefully it won't be. Because if you aren't out of the mansion with the documents when the time comes, there's not much I can do about that."

"And by 'when the time comes,' you mean when Ruby and Yang burn the place to the ground."

"Yes."

"… Now, this is one thing that was never elaborated to me: are they barricading the place on their way out?"

"Yes. Especially if you're not going to neutralize security. We can't afford survivors here, Blake."

Blake shifted. "They're businessmen."

"Liars, corrupt thieves and grubby little manipulators reaching for a brass ring that should never have passed their eyes in the first place."

"Do you not feel a little hypocritical saying that?"

The corner of Weiss's mouth tugged upwards in a smirk. "I have never lied to you, Blake. My money is legitimately-gotten. I make sure of it… I may be a manipulator, and my physical stature isn't necessarily imposing, but at least I'm not grubby."

"And the brass ring?"

"… I'm not reaching for the brass ring. _We_ are striving to defend the brass ring from those who want it for all the wrong reasons. We burn this mansion down, and we'll be doing Remnant a favor by ridding the world of such scum."

* * *

Blake glided to some better cover, several feet to her right. The mansion was large, an opulent sort of building that looked like it had no place being in the middle of a forest, which it effectively was. The surrounds of the mansion was a large stretch of clearing, with a few trees right behind the building. The clearing connected to an unsealed road, which, after some distance, turned into one of the major highways leading to the city. The rest of the clearing doubled as landing ground for those who arrived via air, which the other three were doing. It seemed all very "secret lair", but in the end it was a perfect getaway location, on an island famous for its getaway locations.

She watched from afar as Weiss strolled into the entrance hall of the mansion, her dress barely skimming across the ground as she walked. Ruby and Yang followed closely behind her, their own dresses similar to Weiss's in all but color and some random stylings embroidered here and there.

At the entrance hall, names would be checked off the list, and the trio would be ushered into the event from there.

It was the last of the exit points that Yang and Ruby would seal on their way out; of course, given that the distraction of a growing fire allowed them to swiftly move through the process.

After a couple minutes of silence, her earpiece crackled, and Yang's voice quietly shot through. "Lima, come in. Over."

Blake flicked on her earpiece. "Lima here. Over."

Their designations were taken from the phonetic alphabet, using the second letters of their given names. Blake was Lima, Yang was Alpha, and Weiss was Echo. They had had to make an exception for Ruby, who downright rejected the various points to having a callsign and insisted that they simply call her by her name. So, in spite of the inherent risk of doing so, they grudgingly acquiesced. Or rather, Yang and Blake grudgingly acquiesced. Weiss was sitting back and smirking the whole time. _Ah, youth._

"Lima, confirm whereabouts. Over."

"Still outside. Sighted three shades of partygoers entering a couple of minutes ago. Requesting permission to enter. Over."

Blake was indeed in charge of the op, but certain concessions had been made to ensure that the mission ran smoothly. One of those concessions was waiting for the trio inside to give her the go-ahead. She also trusted Yang to be able to run their op from the inside.

"Proceed."

Blake took off through cover, circling the mansion clearing.

_40 feet to my right…_

She stopped, and observed the building.

_There should be a vent right… there!_

She flew across the clearing, covering the distance between the bushes and the mansion in a matter of a few seconds. She glanced overhead, and held back an exhale of relief. She'd managed to avoid the swivel of the surveillance camera as its view swept across her area of the clearing. It took all she had to refrain from reaching up and disconnecting the camera, but she knew that the monitors inside were being watched by hawks, and she didn't want to risk any sort of alert.

Pressing up against the wall, she started working on the vent.

* * *

"Thank you, Mr. Vermont. I'm looking forward to your future ventures as well."

The greasy-haired man turned and walked away, leaving Weiss alone again. Before anyone else decided to walk up to her, she snatched a flute of champagne from the silver dish of a passing waiter. She observed the other mingling suits and dresses in the ballroom, and quickly gulped the fizzy bubbles to oblivion.

Most of the attention in the ballroom was focused on Julius Brygg and Milton Winkstein, two powerful – though not nearly as powerful as Weiss – figureheads in the international business world, who had recently come together in a handshake agreement of sorts. To celebrate, they'd decided to call on a favor from a mutual friend, who just so happened to be a billionaire media-mogul and had agreed to host an exclusive function for them at his mansion on Patch Island.

As Weiss suspected, much of the guest list was filler – other notable names who remained unremarkable in the grand scheme of things, such as executives and other board members from various industry companies. She didn't doubt for a second that, despite her status, her own invitation (and the invitations she had quietly wrangled for Ruby and Yang) were simply for the sake of having a few fresh faces in the midst of sweaty people who all looked like death warmed over.

Ruby had excused herself from proceedings a few minutes after they had entered the ballroom. Presumably it was to start casing out other exits, but it made Weiss slightly anxious. Thankfully it hadn't been treated suspiciously, but Weiss knew that she couldn't afford not to redress the issue with Ruby at some stage; if she was to play a role, it would be best if she played the role to its fullest extent.

Meanwhile, Yang was doing as much handshaking and talking as Weiss. She appeared to be a natural, putting on smiles and chatting – never mind that she didn't know a thing about investments or trade. She met Weiss's eyes for a split second and nodded at her, like she was saying _ready to take over?_

Weiss was. She set down the empty flute and worked her way back into the throng. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yang excuse herself and walk off in the direction of the bathroom.

Weiss's earpiece buzzed.

"Echo. If you can hear me, take another flute of champagne, and sip for three seconds. Over."

Weiss did so.

"Okay. Don't respond to this, and keep acting natural-"

Weiss smiled and shook hands with Vernon Driscoll, a low-level executive with Wenkstein's company.

"I just received confirmation that Lima is inside. Two guards in the monitor room dealt with. Stabbed. Lima, switch comm channel to Band 3. Over."

Blake's voice appeared in Weiss's ear. "I'm working on the monitors now. Thankfully Ruby's managed to stay off the cameras this whole time. Over."

"Okay," Yang said. "Orders, Lima?"

Silence.

"Lima?"

* * *

Blake's brow furrowed in concentration as she counted down the seconds for the monitors to reboot.

Yang's voice was becoming urgent in her ear. "Lima, please respond."

"Sorry. The monitors are completing reboot cycle… now. Okay. Alpha, your orders are to link up with Ruby, and wait for my call; at the same time, I will infiltrate the main office and retrieve the target. I'll be dealing with security along the way, which is why you _must _wait for my call. After linking up, and receiving my go-ahead, you'll start casing potential exits upstairs. You must be quick about it, so as to avoid suspicion. Once that's done, wait for my call to light up."

"Copy that. I have visual on Ruby now."

"Until I make the calls, this will be our last contact; I'm switching off my band until then. I need as much quiet as possible to work my way to the main office. Lima out."

"Copy that."

Blake switched off her earpiece and stood up. She looked at the monitors one last time. The tape loops were extremely convincing. Very few would be able to notice the repeats.

As for the bodies she would be unfortunately leaving behind, her entryway had taken care of that. That vent had proved itself very useful.

Weiss's earlier words played in her mind. _We can't afford survivors here, Blake._

With her hand on the door handle, she paused. A voice. And not the voice of one of her allies. Someone – a man, it sounded like – was approaching the monitor room.

She tensed, and backed away from the door. She crouched behind a copy machine against the wall, and quickly drew her knife.

* * *

Eric Winslow had never considered himself to be a cop of any real importance. After failing to hold down positions at the precincts in the city, he eventually had enough and, with the help of an old Academy acquaintance, started a security officer business. Generally, they would only get contracts for security around Signal Academy events, just to pad the already-beefy security presence of weapons-masters and former Hunters and Huntresses.

Rarely did they get contracted for events of real significance. The Brygg and Winkstein agreement was international news, and the event was to be celebrated at the mansion of Channel 6's president on Patch Island.

Winslow had almost jumped when the call came in. Financially, things had taken a downward turn for his humble rent-a-cop business in the last quarter, and this contract would almost erase that deficit. At the age he was – in his late-40's – it had taken on a real level of importance for him.

And now he had a bad feeling.

He tapped his comm. "Officer Himmelsen. Officer Lincoln. Marty, Ed. Everything alright in there?"

No response. He frowned. He knew it was a mistake to station his two best subordinates in the monitor room, but he'd needed the sharpest eyes covering all angles, and the gathering in the ballroom was completely harmless. Should he have rectified his assignments? Perhaps. But he hadn't foreseen any problems arising.

He tapped his comm again, and started up the staircase leading from the ballroom to the upper floor.

"Guys. I'm coming your way."

He knocked on the door of the monitor room. "Hey! Open up in there!"

He didn't hear anything happening inside. He knocked again.

"Did you two hear me? What dumb shit you trying to pull, turning off your comms?"

He tried the door. Unlocked. Wilson felt uneasy.

"I'm coming in there, guys!"

He opened the door, and shut it behind him. The room was darkly-lit, but looked empty.

"Where are you two?"

That's when he realized the biggest mistake he'd made all night. He'd forgotten to comm for backup. The monitor room was out of the way of the ballroom and his officers on the upper floor. No one knew where he was, or what he was doing.

The hand clamped over his mouth and nose before the knife sliced across his throat.

* * *

Blake could hardly believe her luck. Not only was the commander of the security force a complete fool, but he had the keycards for the offices on him.

She swiped the cards, and dragged the body of Officer Eric Wilson behind the copy machine, where she had just hidden a matter of seconds before. She examined the bloodstains on the floor. _Not much I can do there._

It dismayed her, the mess that a kill could leave behind. But she had to reluctantly agree with Weiss.

_We can't afford survivors here, Blake._

Did it make them easier to kill, that she didn't know a thing about them? Maybe the people she was conspiring to kill were indeed criminals. Sadists. But conversely, she didn't know that for sure. She only had Weiss's word to go on, and Weiss's word didn't mean a whole lot to her. Maybe they were ordinary people, with wives or husbands and two-point-four children. Maybe they were secretly struggling to make ends meet. Maybe they were being held accountable by forces even more malevolent.

But again, she didn't know that for sure.

She wiped the blade of her knife off on Wilson's shirt.

In the end, she supposed that it didn't matter. They would all die someday. Some just sooner than others.

She left the monitor room, and swept down the path to the main office, which she had long since memorized from Weiss's new operation files.

She paused at a corner when she heard footsteps. It sounded like someone on patrol. A quick glance around the corner confirmed that. The guard was facing away from her, but there was no other way to the main office, so sneaking was a moot prospect. _No! Now is not the time to wrestle with your conscience._

She exhaled quietly as the guard yawned.

She readied her knife.

_Fuck it. Let them all burn._

In a couple of quick steps, she dashed around the corner and did to the guard what she had done to Wilson. The body hit the floor with a small thud, and she was back down the path.

It was like that all the way to the main office, but without the pausing. She refused to let herself care. So she cut down all guards in her path.

She knew that time was decreasing exponentially with each body she left behind, but she also knew that she was good enough to deal with the handicap.

The two guards stationed outside the main office didn't stand a chance.

Blake dragged both of their bodies into the office with her. The way she saw it, she had a minute or two, maybe less, before she had to be out of there.

She immediately encountered a few problems.

The first was that the main office was _vast_. There were cabinets and drawers and desks everywhere. She would hardly have enough time to search them all. Weiss had warned her that might be the case, but even she was unsure.

The second was her escape route. Even after seven days of mission briefings and discussion, they had not been able to work out how Blake was going to escape the mansion once she found the documents. She couldn't rush through the ballroom and out the front door, as Yang and Ruby would have likely sealed it. They'd come to the conclusion that her best bet was the large window at the back of the office, which opened to the clearing. It was a two-and-a-half storey drop, but they had no other choice.

But she had foreseen those problems potentially arising.

The third problem was one that she had not foreseen.

She could hear the screams. She could smell the smoke. She could feel the spread of panic in her body. Her eyes widened.

_What have they done?! They're not supposed to light the fire until I give the call!_

In her mind, she could hear Weiss. _If you aren't out of the mansion when the time comes…_

_Well, the time has come Weiss._

And it was coming for her.

* * *

**And... end! Cliffhangers galore! You must hate me right now. But that's a good thing, because it means you want to know what happens next, don't you? Yes, I'm familiar with you greedy people by now. Hey, I'm one of them myself! Hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the next chapter, but I can't make any promises. I'll probably put up a romantic, stand-alone one-shot after this, and then a new chapter of Static Flow after that.**

**...Truly Yours, Kalico.**


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